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In one incredible movement of skill and intensity, Synjon drew his entire body down to her belly, found her clit with his fingers, then surged upward until the thick head of his cock hovered at the entrance to her sex.

His weight on one elbow, his eyes on her, his thumb slowly stroking her clit, he entered her with one delicious thrust.

Petra cried out, her legs squeezing his waist as she gulped in air, as her pussy stretched to accommodate him. He was so big, so thick, and she was so tight. She gripped the meaty flesh of his backside and pumped against him.

Synjon groaned and started moving inside her. "You're so tight, Petra."

"It's perfect," she uttered, circling her hips slowly. "You're perfect. Don't stop, don't slow down. Just fuck me hard, Synjon. Fuck me until neither one of us can breathe."

He dropped his head and nuzzled the sweet spot between her shoulder and neck, let his fangs graze her skin as his fingers worked her ever-swelling clit and his cock thrust deep inside of her.

Petra moaned, the wet heat of her body screaming for release. She couldn't stop herself now, couldn't slow her impending climax. And she didn't want to. Madness took her, stole her thoughts, feelings, and emotions and allowed her to be one raw nerve surrounded by a blazing hot sun.

Synjon could no doubt feel her clenching around him and though he quickened his touch, he gentled it too. He was going to draw out her climax, keep her crying, moaning, begging for seconds upon seconds until she had nothing left.


Her scream was deafening, and as her insides shattered and her outsides writhed and arched and gave in, Synjon bit lightly into her flesh, thrust up into her cunt and followed her over the edge into delicious madness.

Chapter Ten

Lying back on the soft floor mat, Synjon refused to think of anything more than what was before him, what was beside him, and what had been beneath him.

If he did, he'd be utterly lost to madness.

He covered Petra with the towel, wanting to make sure she kept warm as she snuggled against his side, her head on his chest.

For several long moments, neither one of the spoke. Outside the bathroom, the day was in full progression. No doubt there would be a knock on the door at any moment, disrupting their little oasis, their scared space where nothing was challenged or explained, justified or forgiven.

"Maybe it's best for both of us," she said, breaking the silence, her lips moving against his chest. "But I don't know if I can forget this, Synjon."

Her words made Syn's gut constrict with too many emotions he refused to look at. He tipped her face up to his, then leaned down and kissed her. Soft at first, his lips moving over hers, brushing. Then stronger, his fangs nipping at her lower lip. "I don't want to forget this, Petra."

Her eyes implored him. "What do we do?"

He kissed the tip of her nose. "Do you want to stay here?"

"My family is here."

"That doesn't mean you must." What was he saying? What was he asking in his sacred space that had no rules of regrets?

Her gaze warmed and her mouth lifted into a gentle smile.

"Come with me when I leave," he said impetuously. No regrets. No looking back. "I'll take you to the credentis. You can see how your kind lives."

Her smile broadened and reached her pale blue eyes. "I would love to see that."

"There is so much to show you." The fantasy continued inside his head. "But first, I have I take care of some business. You can stay with my friends, the Romans. They are good pavens and veanas. Their mates will befriend you, tell you all about Meta-"

"Business?" she repeated, her brow furrowing and her eyes losing a touch of their happy glow. "You're talking about revenge, aren't you?"

He inhaled deeply. He didn't want to go there, not now. That part of his life had no place in this fantasy. But he implored her. "It's justice, Petra. And I will have it. I must have it."

She will have it.

His gut aching, he eased Petra's head to his chest again and pulled her closer. "Please understand. I must end it, end that bloody bastard to move on. You wouldn't want to know me, be near me, if I didn't."

She was quiet for a moment, her hand brushing back and forth over his chest. "What if he gets to you first? What if he hurts you?"

Synjon sniffed his derision, the bitterness creeping in whether he wanted it to or not. "Cruen has already hurt me in the worst way imaginable. It is his turn now. His and any kin he may have sired."

Synjon felt her go still against him, and her hand cease its soft caresses against his chest. He brushed her hair away from her shoulder and wondered if he should say anything more or just let her digest what was already given. No doubt she was exhausted. No rest the night before, feeding him her blood, passing out, the ice cold bath-and then their very lively mating.

Poor veana.

"Nothing needs to be decided now, Love," he whispered against the top of her head. "Just close your eyes, and sleep."

It was a long while before he felt her body relax and her breathing slow.

* * *

He was truly the most beautiful male she had ever seen. And it was going to destroy her to never see him again.

Tears pricked Petra's eyes as she stared down at Synjon Wise, asleep on her bathroom floor. They had been through so much in such a short time, and she knew that never again would she feel such a connection, such a need, such a desire for anyone.